


can’t trust the weather to bring us together

by zozo



Series: Here Comes the First Day [4]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Eavesdropping, F/F, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:55:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24329893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zozo/pseuds/zozo
Summary: One lonely night in space, Glimmer overhears something she shouldn’t.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra/Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora/Glimmer (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Catra/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Series: Here Comes the First Day [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755943
Comments: 32
Kudos: 439
Collections: the corners of today





	can’t trust the weather to bring us together

**Author's Note:**

> Enthusiastic consent is a prominent theme in this series of fics. What follows is the only part of the story that will depict anything less straightforward than proactively sought, fully informed consent. Mild spoilers are provided in the end notes if you want more details before you start reading.

“This does _not_ count as our road trip,” Catra sulks as they’re changing for bed in their cabin. “We’re going to one stupid planet and dropping off one stupid beacon or whatever and then we’re going straight home. It’s an errand run.”

“Yeah, but it’s an overnight errand run,” Adora says, easing up to Catra and waggling her eyebrows. “You know what _that_ means.”

Catra stares blankly at her.

“It means we can do it on the spaceship! Come on! Haven’t you ever wanted to do it in space?”

“Wh—who are you, _Entrapta_?” Catra sputters. “Why would I want to do it in space? We have a way better bed on Etheria and we don’t have to go all the way to _space_ to use it!”

Adora shrugs and playfully turns away. “Fine. We can be in space together overnight and _not_ have sex while we’re here.” She pretends—and Catra is 100% sure she is pretending—to be nonchalant as she turns down the utilitarian bedding of their bunk, but it’s not a risk Catra’s willing to take.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Adora, wait.”

Adora snuggles under the covers, a totally fake smile on her face. “Sweet dreams, Catra.”

“Wait, Adora. That’s not what I said!” Catra shoves her last limb into her pyjamas and crawls into the other side of the bed. “I didn’t say I didn’t _want_ to, I just meant… you know… we didn’t _have_ to go to all the way to space to—”

This new game of Adora’s, pretending she doesn’t want to kiss Catra, that she isn’t going to kiss Catra—it’s pretty effective flirtation now that Catra’s abandonment issues aren’t such an open wound. Catra wouldn’t mind chasing her girlfriend a little, once in a while. But Adora can never maintain the facade for more than a few seconds at a time—she can’t bear to not be kissing Catra. She doesn’t even let Catra finish groveling before she rolls over and grabs two fists full of the front of her pyjama shirt.

“Aha,” says Adora, teasing Catra with tiny kisses on her cheek, her chin, her brow, her jaw, everywhere except her mouth. “I knew it. You _do_ want to have space sex with me.”

Catra groans, even as she melts into Adora’s touch. “Please don’t call it that.”

“Or what,” Adora singsongs as she nibbles her way down the side of Catra’s neck. “You _won’t_ have space sex with me?”

“No,” Catra sighs. “I still will. But please, please find something else to do with your mouth besides calling it ‘space sex.’”

There are plans to install better bunks before their _actual_ road trip, but it’s not at the top of Bow’s list, so for tonight they’re stuck with Darla’s standard narrow metal cots. Catra doesn’t mind much. It means there’s nowhere for Adora to go except right up against her.

* * *

In the next cabin over, Glimmer is getting ready for bed alone.

The beacon Entrapta built is essentially a communications repeater. “We’re back in the larger universe,” Entrapta had explained, “but we’re in a fairly remote corner of our old galaxy. It will be easier to contact other planets if we have a beacon a little further in.”

Glimmer had volunteered for the mission when she thought Bow would be coming along, but the day they were supposed to leave, a technical problem with their Etheria-side receiver meant he had to stay behind and keep it working until Entrapta had the other end established. Glimmer didn’t want to be the one who backed out of the mission just because her boyfriend wasn’t going, so she came along anyway.

A few hours into the journey, though, she remembered that the only reason she’d volunteered for the mission in the first place was to spend time with Bow. There’s not even anything productive for her to do. What sounded like a quick, fun round trip has become hours and hours of time to kill while everyone else does their assigned tasks.

She’s never felt jealous of Adora and Catra before, but at least they get to fall asleep together tonight, she reflects sadly. _Okay, ugh. Too mopey. Change the subject, brain._

And just like it has for the past several days, her brain calls up a memory of playing Spin the Bottle. It seems to be what her brain does now, whenever there’s a spare moment. She remembers Catra’s wiry muscles pinning her to the floor, remembers licking her way into Catra’s mouth, remembers the unmistakable shuddering breaths of Adora’s arousal as she watched her best friend and her girlfriend make out and wrestle in front of her.

Glimmer had kissed Adora, too, right at the start of the game. The idea had been so new, and she’d been so nervous to kiss Adora in front of everyone, that it isn’t as clear in her memory as what happened later with Catra. But she remembers Adora’s fingers in her hair, and her scalp tingles.

She wonders if there’s a way to play Spin the Bottle and kiss two people at once. She’s not sure how that would work, exactly, and she doesn’t care—the notion is enough to conjure a sudden image of Catra in front of her, one firm thigh perfectly positioned between Glimmer’s legs, and Adora behind, kissing her neck and caressing her breasts. It’s by far the most scandalous fantasy she’s ever had, even though Bow keeps assuring her it’s completely normal, “especially under the circumstances.”

She’s _really_ starting to wish Bow were here. Until the end of the war, sex had been the furthest thing from her mind. In the weeks since, it’s almost been like her body wants to make up for lost time. She was as mortified to be caught by Catra sneaking out of Bow’s room the other night as she was grateful it was only Catra who caught her—and more grateful still that she hadn’t been caught the many, many other times she’d done exactly the same thing.

That line of thought leads Glimmer to remember pulling Catra into her room and standing alone with her in the dark. She remembers the brief, hungry moment Catra’s eyes had roamed over her bare shoulders—in the moment itself, she’d been overwhelmed by fear she was ruining her friendships, but with the benefit of hindsight and the freedom of her imagination, she wonders what else could have happened after that look.

She strokes her stomach gently through her tank top. _Am I really going to do this? In space?_ She hopes Darla isn’t watching somehow. She tries to think of something besides prurient images of two of her best friends, but all that comes to mind is a vivid mental picture of Adora in the bathing suit she had worn to the steam grottoes in Mystacor.

 _Fine,_ she thinks as she lets her fingers drift lower. _I guess this is happening. Darla, don’t look._

Hand fully inside her panties, Glimmer gently cups herself, feeling damp hair against the palm of her hand, savouring the anticipation. She gently begins stroking herself open with a finger.

And that’s when she hears it.

* * *

Catra’s spread out on the cot, clinging tightly to the sides of the mattress. Adora’s kneeling over her, one hand cupping the back of Catra’s head, the other working fervently between her girlfriend’s legs. She’s using two fingers to fuck Catra now, and her thumb to rub tight tiny circles over Catra’s clit, just the way she likes it. She’s whispering a fast-paced stream of consciousness into Catra’s ear as she fucks her: _I love you Catra you’re perfect you’re so wet you’re so soft you feel so good I love you Catra I want you Catra I love having you so close I love being inside you I love you I love you I love you please please please please please_ and Catra realizes Adora is begging her to come.

And after all, she would do absolutely anything for Adora.

* * *

Glimmer’s even wetter than she thought she was. She draws a fingertip through her own slick heat, lazily circling her clit—then yanks her hand out of her pants when she hears someone cry out.

 _That… is what that was, right?_ she wonders. The ship is silent now except for the low hum of Darla’s engines. She’s almost convinced she imagined the voice when she hears it again.

It sounds like Catra.

Glimmer’s just about to charge out of bed when she hears Catra’s voice once more. There’s no mistaking it this time: it’s definitely Catra, and she’s calling Adora’s name. Now that Glimmer’s straining her ears, she can hear something else, too, less clear but just as familiar—Adora’s voice, murmuring indistinctly and ending with a giggle.

Catra laughs back and Glimmer realizes what she’s accidentally eavesdropping on. Adora and Catra are having sex in the next room.

Should she _do_ something? She doesn’t know if the sound is being carried through the bulkheads or the deck or the ventilation system—and if it’s the vents, she can’t see any way to close them. If she were at home, she could bury her head in enough pillows to block it out, but here she only has the one. She could try to find Entrapta, see if she could borrow some headphones or something…

“Oh, _fuck_ , Adora,” Catra says in the next room, clear as anything, her voice rapidly scaling up to a whine as she gasps her girlfriend’s name and—

Glimmer’s guilty fantasies haven’t yet included the detail of what Catra sounds like when she comes. Now she’s pretty sure she’ll never be able to have a fantasy without it. Catra sounds so raw, so vulnerable, so out of control; Glimmer can’t see them, of course, but it’s easy to imagine Catra clinging desperately to Adora’s broad shoulders as she—

Glimmer wonders what exactly Adora is doing to make Catra come, and realizes her own hand has already returned past the waistband of her pyjamas.

She knows she’s crossing a line. They don’t know she can hear them, and the delicious feeling she gets in her stomach when she thinks _Well, what if they did?_ is absolutely not an excuse. Purely fantasizing about them is one thing—this is entirely another. It’s a gross invasion of her friends’ privacy _at best_.

And that’s just eavesdropping. If she starts touching herself while she listens, it’s going to be even worse.

She hears Adora’s voice again, indistinct, and then another series of sharp noises from Catra, almost like sobs.

If Glimmer gets any wetter, it’s going to show through these pyjamas. _This is purely practical,_ she thinks as she shimmies them down her legs. _This doesn’t mean I have to do anything once they’re off._ She reaches down to the crotch of her panties— _just to check,_ she tells herself—but she can feel the humidity when her fingertips are still an inch away from the fabric. She touches it anyway. Soaked.

She closes her eyes and imagines herself back playing Spin the Bottle. Only this time, Adora isn’t just watching in stunned silence. While Catra has her pinned to the floor, her sharp feline teeth gently nibbling Glimmer’s neck, Adora’s right there with them, touching Glimmer, touching Catra… touching herself.

It might be the worst possible moment in the fantasy to hear the real Adora’s moan filter through the walls. Glimmer tries to forget about the deeply fucked-up ethics of touching herself right now and gives in to touching herself.

Whatever Catra’s doing over there, she’s doing it in silence. All Glimmer can hear now is Adora. An obvious explanation rises to the front of Glimmer’s mind—Catra’s busy doing something else with her mouth, almost certainly—and _that_ mental image has one hell of a kick to it.

Her panties are too wet and too constricting, so she takes them off too and wonders what she’d do if she were in that room with them right now, watching Catra eat Adora out. Glimmer wonders what they’d _want_ her to do. Touch herself while she watches them? Kiss Adora while Catra’s busy below her waist? Or would they want her to participate even more directly…?

Glimmer envisions Adora lying on her back, Catra’s head buried in her lap, and imagines swinging a leg over Adora’s head to lower herself gently onto her friend’s waiting mouth. Next door, Adora all but wails, and the thought of Adora muffling that sound between Glimmer’s thighs is all it takes to send Glimmer over the edge.

Clearly, she cannot make a single sound. She slams her forearm over her mouth as her back arches and the fingers of her other hand work her clit to a shuddering orgasm, purple sparkles cascading from her skin.

As she rides down the other side of her climax, she hears more laughter from next door, and guilt comes rushing back with a vengeance. She slips out of bed just long enough to retrieve a fresh set of panties from her travel bag and re-dress in her pyjamas, then slips back in, a troubled look on her face.

 _This is bad,_ she thinks. She doesn’t feel like she harmed anyone—though if she’s learned anything, it’s that harm isn’t always immediately apparent—but she doesn’t feel remotely okay about what she just did, either. Whatever this tension is between her and Catra and Adora, it’s not sustainable. Something is going to have to give.

She wonders what it will be.

* * *

“I figured you out,” Adora says, mildly delirious from her mind-blowing series of orgasms. “I know your seeeeecret.”

Catra, having daintily wiped off her chin, is now methodically licking her fingers clean. “You know all my secrets, dummy.”

“Yeah, but I just figured this one out: you’re an _expert_. A _secret_ expert.”

Catra raises an eyebrow.

“A secret _sex_ expert. I bet you’ve written _books_ about it. No way you’re just figuring this out like I am. You’re too good.”

A tiny part of Catra’s mind takes Adora at face value and wants to scream. For better or worse, there’s never been _anyone_ else, and it wasn’t long ago she’d taken that to a truly self-destructive extent. _Doesn’t Adora know_ —but her outrage dissolves under Adora’s teasing smile. Of course Adora knows.

So Catra forces herself to laugh, and by the time it’s all the way out of her mouth it’s real. “You got me. Etheria’s leading sex expert, Dr. Catra, at your service.”

Adora giggles. “Ooh, doctor. Service me, please.”

Catra climbs up and kisses her. “You think I’m that good, huh?”

“Oh my _gods_ ,” Adora says forcefully, “Catra, you—I’ve never felt anything like that in my life. No one has ever made me feel even close. I may not have anything to compare it to, but if you’re _not_ good at this, I think I’m fine with that, because then I’m not sure I could handle ‘good.’”

“Wow,” drawls Catra, scrambling for a joke before Adora can make her cry. “In that case, I can stop trying so hard.”

Adora squeaks indignantly. “Don’t you dare!” Catra laughs and kisses her, then snuggles up against the muscles of Adora’s chest, listening to her heartbeat.

“About that…” Catra says into the silence eventually.

“About what?” asks Adora. “I forgot what we were talking about.”

“Seriously? You forgot calling me a secret sex expert?”

“I remember that part, silly. I just don’t remember the very last sentence you said. I just had several really big orgasms, okay? And they were your fault. Give me a break.”

Catra laughs again. “You were saying you didn’t have anything to compare this to.”

“Oh, right,” says Adora, her smile growing wide. “Yeah. It’s always been you, so.”

That makes Catra purr so hard she momentarily loses her train of thought.

“Is there something I _should_ be comparing this to?” Adora asks lightly, running her fingers through the short soft fur on Catra’s back. “Maybe one of your many published books, doctor?”

“You’re impossible.” To punctuate her point, Catra sucks one of Adora’s nipples into her mouth, releasing it after a moment with a quiet pop. Adora shudders pleasantly.

“I don’t know,” Catra continues. “Tell me if this is a dumb idea. I’ve—I guess I’ve just been thinking, lately, about you, and me, and…”

She trails off. If she says it out loud, the idea will take on a life of its own, and Catra isn’t sure she wants to surrender control of it like that. It feels wild enough already.

But there’s no chance to take back what she’s said, because Adora finishes her sentence: “…and Glimmer.”

Catra glances up at her sharply. “You knew.”

“No,” Adora says, “not until you mentioned it, but… I’ve been thinking about it too. I was probably going to bring it up when we got back to Bright Moon. I don’t really know what’s going on with the three of us lately, but I don’t think it’s going to go away on its own.”

Catra huffs a sigh, snuggling closer to Adora to mitigate her rising anxiety. “So when we get back, I guess we sit down with Sparkles and talk about how to make it go away.”

Adora hums. “Not exactly what I had in mind…”

**Author's Note:**

> Content note: A character accidentally overhears two other characters having sex with each other; she continues listening and masturbates while they remain unaware.


End file.
